


Really Home

by Lady_Nivian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 23:20:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6774316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Nivian/pseuds/Lady_Nivian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This really is home for Sam. Teenchesters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Really Home

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em.

* * *

 

 

Sam sighed as he felt the warm air rush over his face and cold hands, as they Impala rumbled along the road toward wherever it was they were going next. He peered outside again, but still couldn't make anything out. It was darker out here than he thought possible. There was nothing around, nothing for miles on either side. The sky was cloudy, and accounted somewhat for the impossible darkness. But it was a kind of calming darkness. The kind that made you want to sit here forever, and never have to move from this spot.

He could hear his brother's long exhales from in front of him, signaling that he had dropped off to sleep. Something that Sam had not yet achieved. He sighed again. His dad's music played quietly from the stereo in the front, a soothing lullaby to go with the low grumbling of tire on pavement, and the vibrating engine in the front of the muscle car. Now that Sam was listening, he could hear his dad quietly humming along to the tune coming from the speakers.

Sam leaned his head against the window of the Impala, pulling his knees up closer to his chest. He blinked, and his eyes stayed closed a fraction of second too long...

And now they were turning and Sam's eyes jerked open in surprise at the sudden braking before the long black car swung around the corner.

"Sorry, kiddo," his dad murmured, reaching a hand back to pat Sam's knee. Sam exhaled deeply in response, as he leaned his head back against the window again, feeling the cool glass through the hair on the back of his head. He felt his dad's hand move away from his knee, leaving a cold and unpleasant feeling where the solid presence had been.

Dean continued breathing in the front seat. The music continued playing softly, and the car continued to grumble and vibrate as they made their way down this dark road.

Sam listened closely to Dean's inhale and then exhale, memorizing the sound of it, and matching his own breathing to it. He vaguely heard his father begin humming again, but the noise of it just settled into the noise that was already there -- blurring into soothing white noise. Lulling Sam back to sleep.

They had had a rough night, and Dean definitely deserved the rest he was getting, Sam thought hazily. Hunting was hard work. It was painful sometimes. And sometimes Sam hated it. But tonight, with the warm air on his face, and the sound and feel of the Impala gently demanding the attention of his senses, Sam felt at peace. He felt like he was home. And he was. He was here, and Dean was here, and even his dad was here. And they were all safe, and warm, and, most importantly, together.

Because this was home. This was the only home Sam knew. And in the end, Sam knew he didn't really want it any other way.


End file.
